Look at that! 363 of you read my post about the Wellesley sleepwalker. THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY THREE. My blog started with a grand total of about 7 views.

More important than just clicks, of course, are the reactions that I got to my piece. People called me, sent me messages, with a spectrum of positive reactions ranging from tears to (unfounded) apologies. I even had one fellow survivor come out to me and tell me that my words had validated her own feelings about this debacle, and thanked me for sharing them. I was scared to do so, but I am so glad that I did in fact share these words.

This, then, is a post of gratitude and of humble admiration for you all. Thank you for your kindness and your support. By telling me that you appreciated my words, you made me feel appreciated and validated the complex set of emotions I’ve been dealing with all week. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I am simply overjoyed that at least one person found peace in my writing.

In other (good) news, I have started running again! Another thing to be grateful for 🙂

I am about 4 weeks from my next 5k and really want to beat my PR. If I can, I would also like to come in under 30 minutes (about 9:40 pace). It’s definitely doable for me – I just need to work on those hills and get off the treadmill… But the crazy amount of snow has totally been messing up those plans, in addition to my sad little shin splints! Finally ran yesterday, easy 3 mile tempo run, and felt AMAZING.

I practically leapt off the treadmill beaming with joy. I’m trying to be more conscious about how I land, and so far the pain in my left shin is better, but unfortunately still present at times. I’ve already done the responsible (and expensive *sadface*) thing and invested in some Pro Compression socks in the cutest Valentine’s day print that Run Eat Repeat included in a recent blog post. Also, because it’s me, I bought them 40% (saving a significant $20 off the hefty price tag of $50 – nice!).

I love them already! Can’t wait to wear them 🙂

I also made another recovery investment in a foam roller. Groupon was offering a discounted Trigger Point “The GRID” mini foam roller at about 30% off, so I snagged it at its sale price, because these things simply don’t go on sale. The mini size appealed to me as a beginner, and because of how travel-friendly it is.

I bought it in pink because, duh.

Reviews to come soon!

I’ll definitely have to look into different running shoes – likely my old sneakers are the cause of my newly problematic shins. I’m not complaining (well, except about the price tag…), but I just need to do some research on good, stable running shoes for novice-intermediate runners with absurdly flat duck feet. Any suggestions? I’ve been using the Nike Lunar Glide 4, and have really loved them to what appears to be their death.

Wellesley, my dear alma mater, is renowned for being an elite, historically women’s college that has produced and continues to produces bright, inquisitive students coming from a variety of backgrounds and experiences… At least in some circles. The students of Wellesley are known for being passionate, fearless, and extremely active in their political and social critiques.

The infamous statue in question, “The Sleepwalker”, by Tony Matelli.

It is of course no surprise that the above statue, installed suddenly by the on-campus Davis museum, caused a stir at dear old Wellesley. Driving home from work I, like many others, thought it was a real man and nearly crashed my car.

At best, the statue is an aesthetically unpleasing traffic block. At worst, critics say, it is a lethal trigger for painful memories/threats of sexual assault.

Those students who have taken a decidedly anti-statue stance have asked that the work be removed from its very public position on a campus where the vast majority of students, most of them women, live and eat and study. A petition was started, in true revolutionary Wellesley spirit, and as of now I believe that it boasts upwards of 500 signatures.

Naturally, fierce debates have ensued. Art, its definition, sexual assault, and our duties to survivors have been the topics of these highly charged discussions.

My heart goes out to the Wellesley sibling(s) who do not feel comfortable with this statue around. To those of you who are survivors of sexual assault and/or violence, I am also so sorry that you have been made to feel unsafe or even betrayed by this sudden installation.

Things have been tense. Sometimes passion can become harsh, even alienating, regardless of intentionality. But recent media attention have made debates even more polarizing.

That is why I feel compelled to write. I first saw the statue and was startled. I thought it was a real man. I thought perhaps it was a performance, or a bizarre photo op. I thought of my grandfather, who towards the end of his life was at risk of escaping the house and wandering the streets in his pajamas, in a state of utter confusion brought on by the Alzheimer’s that had begun to eat at his mind. I found, and still find, the statue to be creepy and, frankly, bizarre. But that is unimportant.

I am taking a deep breath, because I am about to come out in a very public way, despite the fact that maybe 3 people read this blog: I am a survivor of sexual assault.

The statue never triggered me personally. I never found it to be menacing. I am of course able to speak only for myself, however.

What has driven me to the point that I write out this absurd, long, post is a lot of the discussion surrounding sexual assault and survivors. This damn statue has become something of a litmus test – “You aren’t anti-statue? So you don’t care at all about your siblings who are survivors?!” I’m paraphrasing here, but those are the kind of comments I’ve been hearing/seeing all over social media.

You know what triggered me? People constantly telling me that the statue was triggering. I can’t escape this horrible statue – people are writing about, talking about sexual assault, triggers, violence, male privilege… It makes my head spin, to the point that I think I really need to wait things out and not access any social media for a couple of days. And this is coming from someone whose job is focused on researching sexual assault and violence.

The fact that I didn’t feel triggered bothered me, gnawed at me. I haven’t been able to put my finger on it, and still am only able to vaguely begin to hash out my feelings about this.

I was never triggered, and became so upset about the discourse around this statue because nothing that was being said was true to my experience as a survivor.

Like many other survivors, my assailant made me feel weak, powerless, inhuman, and dirty. As is the the case with many other survivors, my assailant was someone I knew. My assailant was not a balding, middle-aged man, taking young students by surprise (although Wellesley has dealt with flashers/fondlers in the past, this is important to note). My assailant worked his way into my life when I was vulnerable, and then he took my humanity.

What has disturbed me so much in this is the vague “stranger in the bushes” assumption that has been resurrected in a lot of the discussion about the statue with regards to sexual assault and survivors. The outdated idea that a rapist is someone in a dark alley, a stranger with a knife. Most of the time, that isn’t the case. It’s the reason why Take Back the Night is simultaneously so powerful, and so fundamentally flawed: because we need to take back more than just the night.

This is not a means of dismissing the hard work that a lot of my siblings on campus have been doing. People are working very hard to support one another in a time when Wellesley has, to my great displeasure, become a seat of uncontrolled international (but actually) media frenzy. This is simply one survivor’s story, and her relationship to this godforsaken statue. This is a gentle, tear-stained request that you be careful, no matter what position you do or do not take on the statue, not to lump survivors’ experiences together.

Please do not claim to speak for survivors. Instead, amplify the voices of those who wish to be heard, and support those who wish to be fought for. Please do not co-opt my experience, no matter how good your intentions. Please do not claim to save me from the naked man statue, because I do not wish to be saved. Survivors are just that – survivors. We are strong.

We are strong, but we are all different. What I want and need is not what every survivor wants and needs… And that extends to their wants and needs vis à vis the statue. I ask only that you remember to keep your activism and your feminism nuanced, and that you respect the diversity of experiences of survivors on and off of Wellesley’s campus.

One last thing: don’t read the patronizing comments under news stories. You know they are inevitably going to be some dude saying some variation of “they need the D” and so forth. In my opinion, this is not even worth our time and mental health.

Just felt like even though this is early in my blogging career, I do focus on health and fitness, and as a practitioner of yoga (a “yogini”, if you will) I want to draw attention to some yoga-related media this week.

I, along with many others, was horrified to see the shameful XOJane post about a “skinny white girl” who was deeply disturbed by a “young, fairly heavy black woman” in her class. The post was immature and served to dehumanize the young black woman in question. “Good intentions” may have been in this writer’s heart, but there are MUCH better ways of coming to terms with your own privilege – ways that do not involve ludicrous assumptions.

Flawless fitness blogger Erika Nicole Kendall wrote a brilliant take-down of the article on her personal blog as well as in NY Mag, calling for yoga’s restoration as a “culture, not a cult”. I should take this moment to fangirl and say that Ms. Kendall tweeted back at me the other day and was so, so kind – she even offered to give me blogging tips! Too awesome. Glad to see that she and the author of this critical article on yoga are making attempts to divorce this ancient practice from what I may dare call a process of Western bastardization. The latter writer appropriately calls out the “constant promotion” of the “ideal yoga body… a light-skinned, young, very slim, and very agile body”.

Props to these rad thinkers for their efforts!

Also worth mentioning is SAAPYA – or South Asian American Perspectives on Yoga in America. This network has laudable aspirations, including the goals “to revise the perception that yoga is an exclusive practice; to intervene in a largely segregated yoga environment; to ensure that yoga remains a resource for all bodies, all races, all classes and identities” (via their blog’s “About” page).

All definitely stuff worthy of at least skimming through, regardless of your particular level of interest in yoga and/or cultural appropriation as a phenomenon. I personally hope to retain this awareness in my own practice!